Follow Your Heart
by SpiritOfSherwood
Summary: Marian and Carter are alive! Will and Djaq have come back! Friar Tuck is now in! Now a fullbstory! Will/Djaq, Robin/Marian, Much/Eve, Lardner/Leliliq. 8th chapter is now up! Reveiws are love! Constructive criticism allowed! Enjoy! Full summary inside!
1. Marian?

**Ok I know that you were expecting a Lady Clark Challenge from me but me being a forgetful little Forest Spirit, I got sidetracked into doing some pigeon-y love. Enter: Leliliq who is Lardner's mate. She doesn't like being used without permission but you can still do Lardner/OC stories if you want to. Set during series 3. MARIAN AND CARTER ARE ALIVE Will and Djaq have brought back Lardner and Leliliq who have decided to settle down in the Outlaws Camp! Friar Tuck will be introduced at last! Multiple viewpoints and please review! (Whispers) I like reviews!**

**Thanks to all of you who have reviewed my stories so far! You guys rock!**

**Disclaimer: Dammit! I don't own Robin Hood . . . yet. Leliliq is ****mine!**

Dawn. The first light of the day brings harsh reality to the comforting darkness of the night. Slowly at first, the bright orange rays poke through the wispy clouds and over the spindly trees. The Forest is wreathed in frost. It is midwinter and all is still. Even little creatures of the Forest are still as if waiting.

Allan 'A Dale sat very still on his rock overlooking the North Road. His hood was drawn up over his face and his cloak was wrapped around his body. He had been sitting here for the past hour or so. As he saw the sun begin to rise, he also saw the grim stone towers of Nottingham castle twelve miles hence on the horizon. At first he felt remorse and regret for his decision to leave the Castle Guard and rejoin the Outlaws. He could be sleeping in a soft bed instead of a hard wooden bunk in the forest, a salty wench by his side and a good tankard of ale at a moments notice. Moments later he was reminded of Gisbourne.

That monster had ordered the hanging of dozens of simple, god-fearing men, the burning of entire villages for sheer sadistic pleasure. In one moment he had ripped away the life of a good young woman forever and torn apart two people who should have been together forever. His hands bore the blood of hundreds of children. What little good that had been left in him had been destroyed forever.

His beard was tangled with frost and his skin had gone very pale. He was usually cheery and merry but ever since Marian had died by Gisbourne's blade, morale amongst the legendary Sherwood Outlaws had taken a serious nosedive. Dead branches rustled and cracked in the forest below him. Allan was drawn away from his pendant state. As swiftly as lightning, he had drawn his sword and bolted down to the disturbance like a fox. The trees look all the same down here. Dead and spindly like old, malevolent fingers intent on grasping him. Allan cautiously crouched and read the rumours of the soil that the earth brought him. Four sets of human looking footprints were haphazardly thrown hither and thither on the soil before they both headed off into the forest in different directions. Whoever made them were still not far off.

Allan's heart was thumping like mad. It couldn't have been the Guards, Gisbourne or the Sheriff because they would have killed him outright. Outlaws perhaps? Whoever was stalking him was toying with their prey. Re-adjusting his hood, Allan raised his sword in a two-handed high guard with the blade slanted across the front of his body.

A flash of dark cloak flew past the corner of Allan's eyes. The Outlaw swung his sword with a loud cry but it only met air. "Come out and face me!" growled Allan to the shadows "I'm not afraid". He couldn't have been more wrong. He was _terrified_. On instinct, Allan turned and swung his sword again. Instead of thin air, the keen blade met another. The figure before him directed Allan's sword away from their bodies and flung it out of his hands before crashing into him with all of his body strength.

Allan felt the air get knocked out of his lungs as the man pinned him to the forest floor. He was hooded but his cloak bore the Crusaders Cross as well as other military insignia from the Knights Templar. Another man, this time in a dark cloak and an axe strapped to his back helped the Crusader pin Allan to the floor.

Helplessly, he began to flail his legs around like a wild thing, trying to wriggle free from his captors before a third figure clad in a pale green hijab grabbed his legs. A fourth, this time a woman strode out from the shadows towards Allan, her feminine curves concealed in a sky blue travelling cloak. A sword rang loud and clear in the dawn light as she rested it on his throat. "Make a move and I will kill you" she threatened.

Allan couldn't believe his ears.

"Marian?"

**YAY! Marian is back! I hope that that was an entertaining start to this little adventurous epic that will hopefully be longer than all my previous work.**

**The Spirit ******


	2. Reunion

Thanks for all your positive reviews so far

**Sorry for the painfully slow update. No one regrets more than I. Thanks for all your positive reviews so far. The Spirit loves you all!**

**Long Live Lardner!**

"For the last time John! We are NOT keeping that rooster as a pet! We are keeping it for the kitchen!"

"What about that time when you thought that keeping a "cat" that really turned out to be an obese rat was a good idea?!" responded Little John in defiance. Much threw his hat on the floor in frustration as Little John used his huge yet gentle body to protect his little friend. As the argument raged about wether or not to use the rooster that had been flapping around the Camp for the past few months as dinner, their leader was slumped in the shadows, absent mindingly watching what was happening.

Nothing existed for Robin of Locksley except a throbbing bad in his chest that constantly pulsed through his consciousness. The monstrous blurred pain was like a wound with a vile canker taking root in it. His love was gone. That _thing_, Gisbourne had killed her, not for honour or passion but a simple hate filled rage the likes of which could be associated with the childish evil that wanted to destroy something good and living.

His life had slowed to naught and had become scattered, divided and meaningless like a broken glass. The only thought in his head with any coherence other than the death of Marian was a bitter plan of vengeance on the man who ruined his life which was fermenting sourly in his subconscious will. His soul could not be put back together by the bleeding hearts of men who walk upon the Earth. Only the slow decay of Time that would take him to the Divine Beyond could bring him to his life's Love again. Sometimes, Robin Hood wished that he could die quicker by the sword, even if it meant plunging his own blade into the ashes where his broken heart should have been.

This is how it feels to be Robin Hood forever.

"Not being funny" gasped Allan "but are you going to take that sword off of my throat now because it hurts as badly as a hangover at a wedding party!" Wordlessly, Marian removed the sword and sheathed it in a concealed scabbard. The Crusader, the man-with-the-axe and the Hijab clad travellers lowered their respective coverings and all four bowled him over in a group hug. The Crusader revealed a strong brow, dirty blonde hair and a square jaw, roughly set in a grim smile. Carter looked tired and weary but as happy as he could ever look. The last time he smiled properly was probably before his brother's death. The man-with-the-axe showed Allan a face that may as well be his own. Will Scarlett's skin was a shade darker than when Allan last saw him and his features had become more hard set and adult. The woman in the Hijab was a more or less un-changed Djaq. She, like Will was darker than when Allan had last saw her.

Allan was too overjoyed to even begin to ask questions. How did Marian and Carter survive mortal wounds? Why did Will and Djaq decide to come back to a Black Knight infested England instead of a relatively peaceful Acre. Other than this, Allan also wanted to know about the King and the end of his Crusade. _In time_ thought Allan. There was someone whom Marian wanted to see first.

Robin jerked awake all of a sudden. Had he really fallen asleep? It felt like he had been awake the whole time. It must not have been that long because the midday sun was still abroad high in the sky. Either that or he had slept into the next day. He hadn't slept properly since Marian died. Whenever he did rest it was not true sleep but an evil dreamless state that was between sleep and being lost. The only thoughts in his dreams were half-seen images of Marian slipping silently through the trees, taunting him. Laughing as he fruitlessly tried to see her one last time. The other dreams where those of inflicting the most torturous, twisted punishments imaginable on Gisbourne.

The Camps entrance raised all of a sudden and blinding light flooded the Camp. Robin squinted into the painful light and saw nothing save the brightness. _Robin! _Called a voice. _Please God not again!_ Thought Robin. _Let me die so I can be with my wife rather than let me live and suffer this evil deception_.

Much sprang into action as soon as he heard the footsteps outside. It was more than one set so it couldn't have been Allan. Much shouted in surprise as the Camps entrance was raised and five figures stepped in. For a few heartbeats, Much stared in flabbergasted awe and wonder. For some reason, Allan was standing there with Will and Djaq yet it was not those three of his best friends which caused the seasoned young Outlaw's amazement. 

A man who should have died, clad in Templar uniform and the battle dress of the King's Private Guard, his hand resting on the hilt of his broadsword was standing there. By all rights this man should have died by the cruel blade of the Sheriff but there he stood. Carter was somehow, inexplicably alive and well. Next to him however was one more person. Everyone present looked on in blissful happiness as they saw Robin and Marian close the distance between each other. 

A serene smile had come to Robin's face as he gingerly rested his hand on the side of Marians face as if afraid that she would dissipate and vanish. But she didn't. Robin could feel the warmth flowing from her beautifully soft skin into his rough, battle-weary hand. "Is this a dream?" whispered the Outlaw. "No" replied Marian euphorically before Robin did something that the others didn't expect. 

He keeled over backwards and fainted.

**Hooray! Robin and Marian together at last! Sorry if this wasn't how you imagined it. I spent ages trying to get this chapter right so my bad if it is all screwed up. I will work my utmost to update this. I love reviews!**

**The Spirit**


	3. I Know Your Face

I'm so sorry that this took so long

**I'm so sorry that this took so long. I have been so accursed as to contract the dreaded Writer****'s Block Most Foul! After weeks of wrestling with this foul ailment, I have managed to scrape through with chapter 3 of Follow Your Heart. Once more, I thank everyone who has reviewed so far. Bear in mind that this is my first attempt at Robin/Marian. In this chapter, I will finally introduce Leliliq! Have a cookie if you can spot the LOTR line in this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I (sighs) don't o****wn Robin Hood. Leliliq is mine. Ask if you want to use her.**

**Note: In the end of "We Are Robin Hood! We saw Allan head back to England with a basket on his back which may have contained Lardner so he would be in the Camp by now.**

"How is Robin?" asked Marian anxiously. "He is still out cold I'm afraid" replied Much

solemnly. It had been nearly a full hour since Robin had unexpectedly fainted upon

seeing his wife returned from the brink of Death.

"Can you leave us for a moment please?" asked Marian "Yes, of course" said Much "and Marian . . . it is good to have you back" so saying this, Much gave Marian a big hug and left them alone. Marian looked at Robin's face again. He didn't look entirely unconscious because his face would twitch and brief expressions of pain would appear before disappearing again. He was not unconscious, merely deeply troubled and in pain. In mourning.

It broke Marian's heart to see a man as strong as Robin like lose hope and will like this. "Do you remember when you told me that you were going with the King on his Crusade?" asked Marian, as if Robin could hear her. "I knocked you out and Much had to drag you out of Locksley". For a moment Marian smiled a watery smile before completely falling apart on him.

"Oh Robin!" she cried "Why did I have to put you in this position?!" By now the rest of the Gang had noticed her emotional collapse and could only look on helplessly. Much had slumped against the wall of the Camp and cradled his head in his hands. It was obvious that he was mustering all of his self control to keep himself from crying. Allan looked uncomfortable and merely stayed silent and stared at the floor. Little John's face looked grim and sad, his eyes betrayed his sadness. Will, no stranger to feelings of soaring love and unendurable heartbreak seemed to radiate empathy. Beside him, Djaq's eyes were swimming with unshed tears for her friend. Carter had seen many horrors in the Holy Land yet even this most battle-hardened Crusader looked deeply troubled at the scene before him.

Robin's eyes snapped open. He lay there for a moment before realising that someone was lying on his chest, crying uncontrollably. Memories of what had happened before everything had gone black rushed back to him so quickly that it made him nearly black out again. _Will, Djaq, Carter . . . Marian_. The person on top of him sensed his movement and shortened the gap between their faces to a few inches. Robin lightly touched Marian's face. He didn't dare close his eyes lest she disappear again.

"I know your face" murmured Robin. A brief, fleeting smile came to the lover's faces before they closed the gap and met in a deep but passionate kiss. When their lips met, it seemed that the world had become a bit more bright and complete despite the best efforts of the Sherriff and the Black Knights. Upon seeing this, everyone present let their feelings out in whichever way felt best.

Allan's cheeky grin and merry laugh leapt through the freezing air of the Camp, Much punched the air and gave a hearty cheer, A single tear ran down Little John's face as he was reminded of the Wife and Child whom he had left behind, Will and Djaq were hugging each other ecstatically, spinning each other around whilst Carter crossed himself and muttered a silent prayer of gratitude.

"I have missed you so much my Love" whispered Robin, hardly believing that the twisted skein of Fate had brought back Marian. He wore a funny little grin on his face that looked akin to someone having recently been clubbed on the head by a heavy mace or hammer. A gently "_cooing_" sound dragged them back to the real world once again. Djaq quickly brought a small wicker basket from the folds of her forest-green Hijab and opened it. A small flurry of grey feathers scurried out of the basket and gently fluttered up to one of the shelves where it sat down next to another resident bird of the Camp.

"Ah" said Allan upon seeing the pigeon find Lardner's well concealed roost. "This" said Djaq, pointing at the new arrival "is Leliliq. She is Lardner's mate and we have carried her all the way from Bassam's eyries in Acre. When we returned from England, we decided to bring her back with us."

"Unbelievable!" shouted Much as he saw them settle down in one of his cooking pots and, like Robin and Marian, blissfully reunite with the other.

**Okay, that was a short chapter but I promise that I will make them longer and more explanatory. As always, I like reviews but constructive critiscism only please! That little blue button is just a click away. It's that simple. Click it. (Whispers) You know you want to!**

**Have A Nice Day!**

**The Spirit**


	4. We are Robin Hood!

Sorry

**Shalom my little ones! Gosh, I really have neglected this fic haven't I? I'm really, really sorry for the long wait, it's just that I have spent far too much time in the real world and I sort of forgot this but now I have kicked myself back into action. I hope you enjoy this despite the HUGE wait for this chapter. I hope I can suffice with a longer chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Why can't Robin Hood be mine? . . . . '(**

**NOTE: An Imam is a Muslim version of a Vicar/Priest. He would speak Qur'annic verses in the Mosque and lead prayers and do marriages and all sorts of priestly things in the Muslim world. **

**Nottingham Castle**

_I would rather die than be with you Guy of Gisbourne. I am going to marry Robin Hood. I love Robin Hood. _These words burn hotter than the sun does.

_No_.

You try to find words but your sorrow chokes you and no words come out of your mouth, only a strangled sob. Grief then turns into rage in a heartbeat as you see the honesty in her beautiful clear blue eyes and you wish only lash out, to hurt her, to silence her lying tongue.

Before you can stop yourself, the blade which at first hungered for the blood of a King now bites deep into her soft belly and holds fast as the hilt slips from your fingers and blank shock registers in her face as she tries to figure out what just happened.

The rest is a blur. Marian is already dead. The rest is just mere detail. How she falls to the ground in the shadow of the fountain with a groan of pain. How Hood and his Outlaw friends emerge from the shadows and run to assist her. How Hood's Saracen woman tugs the arrow shaft out of the King's back. How Marian's name comes to Hood's lips in an agonised cry. How the crimson blood of the woman who should have been his wife stains her white dress and spreads slowly across her abdomen and wets the sand. How the Sheriff roars your name and yells the Blacks Knights Plot is not yet to Hood over as you climb into the saddle of his horse and ride away.

What shock you felt at your actions has now all but disappeared. Regret comes first. Regret at your selfish action. Secondly comes guilt. It burns at the back of your head. Never stopping and never fading. Constantly reminding you of what was and what could have been. It reminds you of your sin and the inescapable fact that you killed the woman you loved.

Personally.

Because you could not let her go.

You rack your brain, hoping that this is not real only to find the Sheriff. He is all you have left. Because he twisted you and manipulated you as a tool until you were bent completely to his will. At this you scream and rage with all your world destroying fury as you reach out to crush the shadow who destroyed you but only your primal howl echoes across the desert. In the end you cannot destroy the shadow.

In the end you don't even want to as you burn in the ashes of the flames of your furnace heart.

This is how it feels to be Guy of Gisbourne, forever.

"GISBOURNE!"

A voice so familiar to him that it sometimes spoke his own thoughts instead of his voice echoed inside his skull and wrested him out of his scathing attempt at sleep. In the past, the Master-at-Arms would never have been caught sleeping on the job but ever since he had come back from the Holy Land and "Operation Bring-The-Mountain-To-Mohammad" as the Sheriff had called it, he had found normality a past luxury which he could not find now. Sleeping on the job was Allan's specialty. Not Gisbourne's.

"What is it now my Lord?" replied Gisbourne wearily. He was in no mood for errands right now. He was tired, hungry and heartsick. "Our priestly friend is arriving this afternoon and I DON'T want Hood's smelly outlaws intercepting his wagon. I want you to send a convoy into Sherwood Forest to guard him as he moves along the North Road. If Hood tells him about Shah-Mat then the Pope himself might turn the rest of Europe upon us and it was bad enough when Count Booby escaped us" he trailed off as bitter memories of the failed gambling heist stung like angry wasps.

"Shouldn't we divert the Friar from the forest it there is a risk of Hood intercepting him?" asked Gisbourne. He knew he had made a mistake as, with surprising strength, Vaisey pinned him against the wall and started pummelling him with his fists. He had little effect though Guy's chainmail vest he was wearing under his leather jerkin but the message was clear enough.

"They are OUTLAWS!" Screamed the Sheriff "THEY ARE FIVE MEN AND ONE LITTLE PET LEPER SARACEN! I DON'T CARE HOW LONG OR HOW MUCH IT TAKES! I DON'T CARE HOW MANY MEN DIE! JUST BRING ME THE FRIAR! And when you're done you _will_ bring me Hood's pretty little head on a spike!" The last few words were more final than any scream.

"As my Lord wishes" said Guy respectfully as the Sheriff, fuming with rage, stormed off and casually winded the first guard he came across leaving him groaning in pain at Gisbourne's feet. A moment later, a swift kick from the Master-at-Arms knocked the injured guard unconscious. His chin made an exceedingly gratifying wet sounding crack against the toe of his boot. It sounded like the blow had broken his jaw.

_Wouldn't that be lovely? _thought Gisbourne. He smiled grimly to himself as he set about gathering enough soldiers to form a decent convoy. For once, the Sheriff had a plan which Gisbourne could agree too. He was halfway though yelling orders to Allan before he remembered his double cross.

Once he had killed the man who had ruined his life and stolen the woman he loved, he would deal with Allan too. People who betrayed Sir Guy of Gisbourne were living on borrowed time.

**Outlaws Camp**

As Lardner and Leliliq settled down in the kitchen shelf and Robin managed to regain enough self-awareness, The Outlaws settled down. It was Allan to spoke first. "So then" he said to Marian and Carter "That's a neat trick you've got up your sleeves"

"What is?" said Marian, perplexed.

"Faking your own deaths like that. Not being funny but would you mind teaching me how to survive Gisbourne like that Marian 'cos I have a bad feeling about what he'll do to his ex whipping boy when he finds me again if you know what I mean"

"Bassam's house servants had set about burying Marian and Carter after you had left Acre" began Djaq "when Will copied one of my Physicians tricks. He held a blade in front of Marian and Carter's mouths and found that they still lived!" Djaq cast an admiring smile at Will who had his arm warmly wrapped around her shoulder.

"By the way how were you two in Acre?" asked Much "I mean after that game of Kaladomna or whatever it was?"-

-"Kalilah Dimmna" corrected Djaq

"Ah right Kalilah! After that I suppose you get married or something?" Djaq's smile faded like the Sun going behind a grey cloud. Her brown eyes began to swim with unshed tears. "The Imam would not allow it" said Will mournfully. "Even with Bassam's help, the local men swayed him against it"

"The men would come in the night and threaten us, particularly Will" said Djaq. "They would threaten to kill him and cast me out in disgrace if he didn't leave me. They hated my Will because of his faith"

"And when Marian and Carter recovered" said Will "we had to bring them back to England to help stop the Black Knights Plot"

No sooner had Will said this, the Camps elaborate alarm sounded for the first time since its inhabitants returned. "Travellers on the Great North Road!" announced Much. Soon smiles broke onto the Outlaws faces which then turned into grins. "Are you with me lads?" asked Robin, already knowing the reply.

"We are Robin Hood!" said John loudly "everybody say it!"

"We are Robin Hood!" they shouted as they ran out to intercept the travellers.

**Hurrah! Our Outlaws are back in Sherwood Forest and robbing the wealthy again! Sorry if the ending was a bit rushed because I haven't written anything for AGES and I have to live up to your high standards! So how can poor Will and Djaq be together in the England of Prince John?**

**Reviews are Love! (And it means that the Spirit doesn't have to check its stats page every five minutes!)**


	5. This is an Ambush!

Sorry for the long update everybody

**Sorry for the long update everybody!**** Those damn computer viruses really tick me off! I mean, these things are made by computer freaks with waaay too much time on their hands. They make these things for fun! FUN! GOD THEY HAVE NO LIVES! (Sorry for the rant. I'm just so **_**angry!**_**) Apart from that, this chap is late because the real world can be a real cramp on fanfiction sometimes. Introducing Friar Tuck in this chapter - Hooray! I hope you can recognise our outlaws in this chapter at one bit. Sorry if it's unclear! **

**Disclaimer: No copyright, not my infringements blah-di-dah-di-dah you know the drill. A Clue? No!**

The wagon rattled uncomfortably on its wooden wheels as it navigated the uneven North Road through the cool winter drizzle. The lone figure driving the wagon cursed the uncomfortable ride but accepted it with a shrug. Such was his life for was he not a Friar? Sworn to give of himself to God unto Death? Such paltry matters of physical comfort were irrelevant to him. His garb was simple. A simple brown homespun robe held in place with a rope that strained against his portly belly. A roughly hewn well-worn wooden cross hung around his neck displaying his status as a Holy Man. The Friar was middle aged and grey haired. Baldness had started to set in and his usually warm, jovial face was set into a hard grimace as cold as granite. He had learned little more than a week ago that his brother had been killed in the Holy Land. For the Popes so called Crusade.

This filthy war.

After all he had tried to do on behalf of the Bishop of York to stop the fighting, trying to urge Prince John to bring his brother back home. The war had taken the last of his family from him. His parents had died many years ago and his oaths to God forbade marriage on pain of excommunication or worse, accusations of heresy. He remembered what Prince John had said to him when he had pleaded for talks for peace with Saladin. He had tried to explain that the Holy Land was not only the land of the Christians but of the Muslims and the Jews as well. The temperature of the court seemed to have dropped significantly when the Prince narrowed his eyes into a deathly cold glare at the Friar who dared to waste his time with pleas for peace. "Be _very_ careful of what you say Friar Tuck" he had said. "What you say is _heresy!_" The venom with which the Prince spat out the last word was such that the portly priest had left in great haste for fear of enraging him further.

When he had returned to the Bishop of York, the old man was much saddened by the Prince's war-mongering. In desperation, the Bishop had sent the Friar to Nottingham to speak with the county's Sheriff, Vaisey. Maybe this trusted friend of Prince John could convince him to make peace with the Saracens once and for all.

Tuck pulled on the reigns of his horse sharply to avoid the steep drop at a sharp bend in the Great North Road. On one side of the road was a steep slope descending into the misty forest. A fast stream could be heard distantly. The other side of the road rose vertically for about threescore and ten feet in a high, flat faced cliff and all around were the green trees of Sherwood.

Suddenly, the calm of the forest was shattered a loud, high pitched whistle and hostile movements from all directions, heading for the wagon. The figures scrambled up the slopes, clambered down from the cliff and some even had their bows trained on the Friar's heart from several surrounding roadside trees. In all, around eight of them had their full attention on robbing the priest.

"This is an ambush!" shouted the lead Outlaw. The man with the green hood.

"This is how it goes!" called another man with a dirty hat covering his blonde hair.

"There's people 'round 'ere going hungry" explained the man with the bright blue eyes and the amused smirk.

"A little of what you have could be a lot for the Poor of Nottingham" said the brown-haired woman in the trees, her bow never leaving its intended target.

"From you, we will take one tenth" said the huge giant with the wild beard and gnarled quarterstaff.

"But if you _lie_ or _resist_" added another woman, this time a Saracen, pure menace in her voice.

"Then we shall take it all" said the burly man in the Crusaders Garb, dangerously, his hand resting on the hilt of a long broadsword.

"So that the Poor can eat" finished the tall skinny man perched in one of the overhanging branches right above where the Friar was seated.

"So what's it going to be then?!" yelled the lead Outlaw, a cocky smile and a glint in his eyes as his men moved in. Tuck had all too good an idea of who this man and his fellows were. Word of their exploits and deeds had spread far and wide from Nottingham. To York, Leicester, Scarborough and Glastonbury. Even as far as London.

This was Robin Hood. Lord of Locksley. Outlaw of Sherwood Forest. From high Lord to lowly criminal. One could only wonder why a man of such position had turned his back on the society that had given him so much. Tuck certainly couldn't. Very slowly, as not the startle the archers in the trees, Tuck put his hands on his head and stepped out of the wagon to face his attackers. Besides, arriving in Nottingham penniless was better than not arriving at all.

Robin watched as the fat Friar slowly left his wagon and faced the Outlaws. "I am naught but a lowly priest!" he called out "I have only got twenty shillings to pay the gate toll for Nottingham"

_Nottingham eh?_ thought Robin. He seemed genuine but Robin was not taking any chances. He nodded at Allan and John who proceeded to swiftly search the wagon whilst Carter bound the Friar's hands. "You don't look like you come from around here do you? Where are you from?" called Robin. "I am from York if you must know" said the Friar "A humble servant of the duly anointed Bishop of York. Believe me, I am not the sort that carries large amounts of money with on my person"

"We'll believe that when we see it" replied Robin. He wasn't taking any chances with clergymen since that incident with the Canon of Burkley and the disastrous tragedy that had followed. Even from a distance, Robin could tell that Marian was suspicious of the man. "Your business in Nottingham must be important if you go in the Bishop's stead" said Much, probing the man for information. "If you must know" said the Friar irritably, trying to shake himself free of Carter. "I am trying to convince the Sheriff to put Prince John on the path to peace in the Holy Land"

At this the Gang burst out into fits of laughter much to the Friar's chagrin. "You want to got to _Vasey _for peace?!" snorted Will "he's the last man on Earth you would want go to for _peace"_

"Oi! Robin!" called Allan brandishing a small brown sack "Turns out he was telling the truth" and to punctuate his point, Allan tipped the contents of the bag onto the forest floor. Twenty silver coins fell to the ground with a clatter as they jingled against one another."See!" said the Friar triumphantly "Twenty shillings! Now if you could just let me be on my way – or do you want the blood of those poor souls stuck in the War on _your_ hands?"

The man's sentence hung in the air like a black cloud. "By what name are you known by?" asked Little John. "Men call me Friar Tuck

"There is much you fail to understand about Prince John and _especially_ about the Sheriff of Nottingham" retorted Robin defiantly. "What do you mean?" said Tuck suspiciously, his eyes narrowing to slits.

"Short story is that they are plotting in secret to kill King Richard and take his throne with a band of traitorous nobles from all over England" said Marian as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. After a very long pause, Tuck did a double take – quite a feat having now been tied to a tree by Carter. "That cannot possible be true" he said incredulously.

Robin had expected this. He shook his head and turned away. "Carter. Have our friend blindfolded. We are taking him back to the Camp"

"What for?" asked Will, dropping from his branch in one fluid motion.

"To show him our evidence for the Sheriff's treason" replied Robin, lowering his hood and sheathing his arrows. "We are going to show him the Great Pact of Nottingham."

**And thus ends another chappy of Follow Your Heart. Any Torchwood/Doctor Who fans out there may be interested in the new poll on my profile concerning the replacement of Tosh and Owen in the third series of Torchwood. **

**Please review and make me happy. If you do then Will, Allan and Carter will come to your house and if you ask nicely then Robin and Much will come too! :)**

"**Why so **_**serious?**_** Let's put a **_**smile**_** on that face!" – attributed to Heath Ledger's Joker**


	6. Seen Yet Unforseen

Hello again

**Hello again! Sorry for the obscenely long wait. All the nasty coursework and general forced slavery at school means that I have little time to update this story. Luckily for you lovely people, I am now free to write for the next ten days! You can expect at least three chapters from me very soon to reward your patience! I promise!**

**Robin: Wait, what the hell are we doing here?**

**Me: this is the bit in bold print where I speak to the nice people now please stop talking and let me create your adventures!**

**Marian: This is reeeally weird…**

**Little John: This, I do **_**not **_**like**

**Djaq: are Will and I going to get married in this chapter?**

**Me: yeees Djaq you are. I get to drive the float and Much here is in charge of the CONFETTI!!**

**Much: Yay!**

**Me: sigh I was being sarcastic**

**Will: awww…..**

**Me: Please don't give me that look Will! I'm trying to write here…**

**Will and Djaq: sniff**

**Outlaws Camp**

The Gang looked on in tense silence as Robin forced Tuck to read the names on the Great Pact of Nottingham. It had been a good hour since they had blindfolded him and frogmarched him away from his wagon into the Forest and back to the Camp in order to show him the evidence of the Sheriff's treason.

"Spencer, Buckingham, Hastings, Derby" the Friar read out the names on the charter with growing disbelief. "Gisbourne, Vaisy, Gloucester and, by the saints!" he exclaimed as he read the last name. "York has betrayed the King! I would never have guessed"

"You see my friend" said Robin "Prince John has plotters all over England who are willing to see the King dead and the bloodshed in the Holy Land continue"

Tuck took a step back and crossed himself "this is . . . grave to say the least Master Locksley. Worse is the fact that Prince John has struck deals with his collaborators threatening scorched earth if they are murdered" the fat Friar looked deathly pale

"Clearly, Prince John does not trust the justice of his own cause to prevent the people from rising up against their lords" said Will grimly. "And the worst thing is that we can't exactly show our faces any time soon because the Sheriff has strengthened Nottingham's garrison with more men drawn in from neighbouring counties and sent dog patrols in the forest. For now we can only help the villagers in the food drops" finished Allan grimly.

"What we _really_ need to do is find out what the Sheriff has been getting up to since he failed in the Holy Land" said Robin. The Outlaws had been lying low since returning to England as the winter had started to set in and the cold would bring all activity to a near standstill. "We need to find out what Vaisy and Gisbourne are up to before we can think about a serious raid on the castle again" said Robin rubbing his hands to keep them warm.

"I should have known _months_ ago" moaned Tuck looking thoroughly miserable. "Now no one can stand up to Prince John, not without dying anyway"

"Don't be so downhearted said Much consolingly"

"We may just have a little job for you Tuck" said Allan with a glint in his eyes. "But what could I, an aging priest possibly do for you?" asked the Friar looking at Robin questioningly.

"We want you to break into Nottingham Castle and find out what the Sheriff is up to" said Robin with a grin.

**Nottingham**

Friar Tuck's wagon shook uncomfortably as the first few cobbles on the Road to Nottingham appeared and shook the roughly hewn wooden wheels to the point of shaking them off the cart. For the occupants, the experience wasn't pleasant. Tuck squinted in the mid afternoon sunlight to see the menacing stone towers of Nottingham Castle come closer and closer.

The situation in the back of the wagon wasn't much better either. Hidden under a sheet of cloth were Marian, Carter and Allan who were all jostling for space in the cramped compartment were trying their best not to make any noticeable sound to anyone outside of the wagon. As the cart rolled up to the gates of Nottingham, a guard stepped forwards and halted the wagon.

"Toll!" he ordered Tuck as he held out a money bag for the Gate Toll. The sound of twenty shillings clattering into the sack could be heard to the hidden Outlaws. So far so good.

As he prepared to move the wagon forwards, Tuck's breath caught in his mouth as the guard flagged him down again. "Let me just take a look in that wagon for a moment" and without even waiting for an answer, called two of his men to search the wagon. This was the situation that Tuck had been dreading and yet had been prepared for. "What say you to _fifty_ shillings and then we _forget_ the search?" The Outlaws had prepared Tuck for this by dipping into their poor chest.

"Welcome to Nottingham" said the Guard with a satisfied smile as he took the hefty bribe that had been stolen from the Sheriff's own coffers for such an occasion. The Friar smiled beneath his hood as the wagon rumbled forwards into the streets of the town.

Nottingham looked even worse than when Marian had last seen it. It seemed that even more people were forced to live in the muck and filth of the street. The bread queues had become even longer. Swelled by the ranks of the poor, the homeless, dispossessed. The forgotten souls of Nottingham.

The people who had managed to claw their way above the line of filth that separated the poor from the homeless looked no better. A patchwork quilt of faces showed a story of human misery. Sad faces, angry faces, lost faces, drunken faces, mad faces, hopeless faces; city faces. Marian longed, no, _ached_ to help these people and it tore her apart inside to be able yet unable to do something. Anything to show these people a flicker of bright hope in this dark abyss of poverty.

As the wagon lumbered to a halt outside the castle itself, Marian's breath caught in her throat as she heard a voice that would haunt her for the rest of her life. The pitch and tone was unmistakable. It was the voice of Guy of Gisbourne. Before she could make any noise, Allan had covered her mouth so that she would not betray their presence. He too looked fearful at the sound of Gisbourne's voice.

"Ah, your holiness" Guy said, sounding uninterested and distracted. "My Lord of Gisbourne" said Tuck bowing his head respectfully. "May I see the Sheriff now?" he asked, sowing the deception. "Of course" said Guy, taking the bait. As he lead the Friar to the Sheriff, he took a look back at the wagon. On a normal day he would have dismissed it but today he had felt _someone_. A certain familiar yet unfamiliar presence in that wagon. He was halfway towards shouting for a guard to search it before coming back to his senses. The Sheriff didn't like to be kept waiting.

As they walked into the stony bowels of the castle, three unassuming figures slipped out of the wagon and followed them in the shadows.

**Oooh! The first major plot development! (As if resurrecting Carter and Marian and bringing back Will and Djaq wasn't big enough!) Next chapter, we will see what Tuck and Co will get up to on the first heist since Series 2! Sorry if the description of the poor was too depressing. I got inspiration from my history lessons about the Soviet Union and the source photos they gave us.**

**Me: GISBOURNE!!**

**Gizzy: What now?**

**Me: Ask the nice people to leave a review on the way out ASAP!!**

**Gizzy: Huh?**

**Me: Just get on with it! (Starts to type wildly for the next chapter)**

**Much hugs from the Spirit! **


	7. You Will Never Be Rid of Me!

**Sorry for the long wait everyone! Here is chapter 7 like I promised. I am so sorry about the long wait and stuff because I am a lazy so and so. I hope you didn't hate the poor quality of the last chapter too much because I wrote it in less than a day and wanted to upload it before it got dark like it does every fifteen seconds now. Hope you enjoy it! **

**Note: Yuletide is basically the "ye olde" way of saying Christmas. Seeing as we are in November already, I was feeling a little bit festive so I gave the Sheriff a bit of fun before outlaw time!**

**Sheriff: Wait, what am I doing here? GUARDS! GUARDS!**

**Me: Quiet you! I'm trying to get on with the story.**

**Sheriff: You damned outlaws! I'll-**

**Me: Do what? I'm in control of **_**this**_** story, a clue? No! MWAHAHAHAHA!!!**

**Nottingham Castle**

Carter's heart was hammering in his mouth as he, Marian and Allan silently shadowed Gisbourne and Tuck as they made their way though the bowels of Nottingham Castle towards the Sheriff's audience chamber. At several points, the trio had to flatten themselves into the shadows to avoid any wandering patrol of guards or passing servant. The last time Carter had been here, he had been stealing reward money from the Sheriff by pretending to have assassinated Robin Hood. He remembered the looks of grief and blank shock on the peoples faces as they saw the body of the only person who would stand up for them be hauled through the streets of Nottingham like a piece of baggage.

Tuck and Gisbourne soon walked into the great hall and turned towards the audience chamber which was too open a space for the three outlaws to pursue the Friar and the Master-at-Arms without being noticed. "What are we going to do now?" hissed Allan exasperated. Their answer came when three guards came clattering along in their heavy steel armour. Carter smiled as he, Marian and Allan struck blows to the back of their heads and dragged the poor unconscious conscripts into the darkness.

By his standards, the Sheriff was having a very good day. Preparations for this years Yuletide festivities in the great hall were well under way. An army of servants had been drafted in to reinforce the castle kitchens for the epic scale of the Christmas feast and the storeroom had recently had every spare inch crammed with barrels of strong brown Yorkshire ale, skins of fine wines from the vineyards of Aquitaine and plenty of salted pork and beef for the enjoyment of the guests.

_Yes_ thought the Sheriff happily. _No amount of idiotic peasants, buffoons, lepers and damn __**outlaws**__ will ruin __**my**__ most favourite time of the year!_ As he began to hum a carol merrily to himself, he was interrupted by the door opening. "Dear lord in heaven give me strength!" he muttered angrily as he saw who it was. Gisbourne and a man who could only be the Friar sent by the Bishop of York.

"My lord!" Gisbourne called loudly to get Vaisy's attention. "Yes Gisbourne" said the Sheriff, absentmindedly swilling a goblet of wine. "The Friar just as you wanted him, alive and unspoiled by outlaw hands"

"Well done Gisbourne" the Sheriff said looking pleased "Did you divert him from the Forest as I asked?"

"No my lord. His wagon arrived in Nottingham on the Great North road this afternoon straight out of Sherwood" there was a brief pause before the Sheriff spoke again.

"A defenceless wagon rides through Sherwood Forest without even a single sign of outlaw intrusion. Perhaps you broke their morale by killing their leper friend" mused Vaisy half-smiling.

"DON'T **remind **me!" thundered Gisbourne, dangerous storm clouds of rage flickering in his eyes. Both master and protégé glared at each other coldly, testing each others intentions. _The_ _foolish boy should grow up_ he thought. _Why have a leper when you can have the world?_

Just as suddenly as it reared its head, threatening to wreak havoc, the gathering storm died away as the Sheriff turned his attention to the Friar who until now was wondering who the "leper friend" of the outlaws was. They didn't seem broken at any rate.

"Now then father" said the Sheriff, dragging Tuck back to the present "make out with it. What do you want to see me for? I am a very busy man with a rather annoying little outlaw problem at the moment so do make it quick"

"My Lord Sheriff" Tuck said respectfully "I am Friar Francis Tuck and your most obedient servant. The Bishop of York has sent me to ask for your favour"

"Ah yes, and what does that wrinkled old relic want of me this time?"

Ignoring the stinging remark about the well respected member of the clergy, Tuck said "he wishes for you to convey to Prince John, the feelings of the people regarding the Pope's Holy War in Palestine" He put as much sarcasm as was safe to do so on the word "holy" to emphasise his point. "The people of Yorkshire and the surrounding counties as well as senior members of the Church feel that now is the time to cease the blood and death in the Holy Land and make peace with Saladin. For too long has many a wise son been sent to die in this hopeless war. My master, the Bishop hopes that a trusted friend of Prince John such as yourself would be able to turn his heart on the path to peace"

Tuck waited for the Sheriff to speak, apprehensive about what would happen next. Vaisy's face twisted into a horrible grimace as if someone was forcing him to eat lemons. "Peace" said the Sheriff, spitting out the word as if it were some foul abominable obscenity.

"You would come to me, all the way from York to bleat to me about PEACE?!" he thundered the last word, standing up in his rage, gnawing his lip and an insane glint in his eyes and without even waiting for a response from the Friar, Vaisy spoke to Gisbourne. "Kill him. I want to seem him swinging in the breeze by the time the sun goes down" he sat back down and coldly looked on as Gisbourne called for some guards to hang the upstart priest.

"As long as there is death in the Holy Land, there will be those who are willing to rise up against the selfish who send the innocent to die!" said Tuck defiantly as three armed guards entered the audience chamber and grabbed him.

"And there will always be those willing to hang troublesome priests" said the Sheriff smiling devilishly.

As two of the guards made to drag the portly holy man away to his death, one of them walked up to Gisbourne – and punched him hard in the stomach, driving his armoured gauntlet into the soft flesh of his belly, pushing the air out of the Master-at-Arm's lungs. Handsome blue eyes blazed behind the helmet and the voice of the victim's former protégé rang out through the stone hall. "Long time, no see eh Gizzy?" said Allan A Dale as Gisbourne fell to the floor in agony.

"What witchery is this?" snarled the Sheriff angrily "GUARDS! **GUARDS!!**" his yells were cut off as one of the other guards let go of the now bewildered Friar and in one swift ye fluid motion, drew a dagger from his belt and threw it straight at the Sheriff. The blade struck, mere inches from nicking the Sheriff's skin yet pinning his clothes to his throne. Vaisy tried in a futile attempt to free himself but the dagger was well and truly embedded in his seat.

"Damn missed him" said Carter in mock annoyance

"OUTLAWS! OUTLAWS IN THE CASTLE!" he began to yell at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing around the castle and rousing the guards from whatever they were doing at the moment. Soon, dozens of men in steel armour were clanking through the castle towards the sound of the racket that the Sheriff was making. The ring of many swords being drawn could be heard.

"DON'T JUST STAND THERE YOU **BLITHERING OAF!!**" he roared at Gisbourne who was still gasping in pain from the heavy blow which Allan had given him.

Wordlessly, Gisbourne gave chase as the Outlaws ran out with the Friar, leaving the Sheriff to tug at the dagger that was pinning him to his throne.

After months of inactivity, the local garrison had been taken completely by surprise by this sudden intrusion. Half of the guards who were tasked with opening and closing the portcullis were napping when the three Outlaws and the Friar ran out into the courtyard, followed by three dozen armed soldiers, the Master-at-Arms and the Sheriff himself who had finally managed to free himself.

As the four jumped into Tuck's wagon and began to rumble away from the castle, Marian leaned out of the back and threw off her helmet. Her long dark hair flew around her face in the cold November evening and she looked beautiful yet terrible to behold. When Gisbourne saw her, he dropped his sword and looked like he had just seen the innermost circle of hell.

"Guy!" she shouted, her clear voice cleaving the cold air. "You will **never** be rid of me! NEVER!" As the wagon rolled out into the streets, some of the guards tried to make chase on horseback but crowds of people flooded onto the street to catch a glimpse of those who would oppose the Sheriff. They blocked the way for the cavaliers to make chase yet parted like water to let the wagon escape. Soon, the wagon had left the city and was rolling towards the forest. Towards freedom. Allan, Carter and Marian gave cheers of joy and Tuck leant back in the saddle, sighing with huge relief. They had done it.

They had made it

**Wow! I actually did another chapter! Sorry for any punctuation errors and my wildly random apostrophe. I hope you enjoyed that puppy and remember that I will always be trying to get more of this to you whenever I can. Please can you leave a review on the way out if you have time. They aren't demanded.**

**Allan: YES! We made it!**

**Marian: Woohoo! Cake time!!**

**Gisbourne: Not so good for you, I was the one who had to be injured AS ALWAYS! First pepper in my eyes and now this . . .**

**Sheriff: Why am I still here?**

**Me: because I am still a fan of Robin Hood!**

**Sheriff: Damn outlaw . . .**

**Me: I HEARD THAT!!**


	8. The Night Belongs to Lovers

**WOOHOO!! OVER THE 10,000 WORD MARK!! BOOYAH!!**

**Ahem, sorry for the long wait between updates again as well as a cheesy chapter title! Just got back from school and I an now free to write for you again! Basically, this chapter is taking a more shippy approach to this (hopefully) action packed fic. We all need a shippy break once in a while so this chapter will act help ease me back into the gist of updating. I am so sorry for the sappiness of this chapter, some words of advice from you could help me no end. **

**There will be Will/Djaq and Robin/Marian so everyone wins! (Apart from Allan/Djaq, Guy/Maz and Much/Eve shippers. Sorry guys! I was originally going to have Much in there dreaming about Eve but there wasn't enough to go on in Series 1 and I just couldn't get it right. Hope that doesn't annoy too many of you)**

**This is my first proper attempt at Robin/Marian so be gentle! Constructive criticism can help me improve however so bring it on!**

**Disclaimer: Robin Hood isn't mine. If it was then Jonas and Lucy wouldn't be leaving the show.**

**Much: Now then guys I know this is a shippy chapter and we're all back together again, could we please keep the "honey" levels down tonight. **_**Some**_** people are sleepy!**

**John: MUCH!**

**Allan: For God's sake! Use some tact man!**

**Much: All I'm saying is-**

**Everyone: MUCH! SHUT UP!!**

**Me: SILENCE!! I'm trying to write!**

**Outlaw's Camp**

Dusk had now fallen upon the Forest which had then swiftly turned into pitch darkness, cut through with such mind-numbing _cold_ that none of the Sheriffs men could patrol the forest, no matter how much the Sheriff would scream and shout at them so the Outlaws could make safe use of a fire without the risk being spotted.

"It is agreed then" announced Robin to the gathered Outlaws "Will, John, Tuck and Djaq shall go on the food drops in the villages whilst the rest of us and help in Nottingham as well as see what else we can find out about the Sheriff's plans"

After Tuck and the others had returned from Nottingham, the Outlaws had talked well into the night about the recent changes orchestrated by the Sheriff. They hadn't been able to tell much from their foray into Nottingham but judging by the increase in the strength of the local garrison as well as the introduction of harsher laws upon the peasants meant that the Sheriff was up to something big.

**Robin and Marian**

Robin watched his gang secretly from a dark corner of the Camp, his eyes hidden in the shadow of his raised hood. He watched as one-by-one, the various outlaws settled in for the night.

Much climbed into his "hidey hole" in his kitchen where he liked to sleep which was basically a pile of old blankets and warm furs. Soon, the sound of the sighing wind in the boughs of the trees above them and the rustle of dead leaves in the breeze was joined buy Much's soft snoring. He always was a deep sleeper.

One by one, the Outlaws slinked into their bunks, eager to escape the bitter chill of the night save for two of them, staring at each other hungrily. The man's face is hidden in shadow save for his eyes which glisten in the dying light of the fire. The woman looks back at him like a cat readying itself for a long overdue meal, both of their hearts ache for each other when they are apart. They wish for nothing more than to bond their souls together as one and make the world whole again. They stayed like this for an indeterminable amount of time. Was it minutes or hours until the others surely fell asleep? To both, it felt like hours.

Marian watched her husband from her hammock but made no attempt to hide it.

_Husband_

She had been rolling the word around inside her head for the past few months now just as she had done with the ring on her finger and yet she hadn't really fully taken it in yet. To her, saying "I am Robin Hood's wife" is more or less saying "I am alive."

Robin broke the tension first. He winked at her, flashed a grin which never failed to melt her heart and nodded at the Camp door.

Unnoticed by the others, Nightwatchman and Champion of the Poor slipped out into the darkness, hands clasped together.

They barely made it over the nearest hill when they launched themselves at each other and hungrily started kissing each other fiercely as though it was their lifeline. Each kiss mingled into the next as their hunger for each other took hold as wandering hands fuelled the spreading wildfire. Robin still couldn't take it in.

_She wasn't dead. She's alive_.

He felt like smiling now but his heart was too full for that. When they paused for breath in between exhilarating kisses, Robin would drink in her features hungrily, hardly daring to blink. He could spend a life with her again and the ice around his heart could thaw in the fires of their passion. Half-whispered, half-unspoken pledges of love passed between them as they paused momentarily to adjust themselves and to catch their breaths. Any longer and they would have suffocated.

"I love you Robin" breathed Marian in the twilight, her angelic smile warming his heart again. As they leaned in for another infinite kiss, Robin found himself thanking whichever God was up there for sparing her.

**Will and Djaq**

Djaq watched Robin and Marian leave the Camp from the darkness of her bunk. She could practically feel the tension of anticipation between them so thick that it could be cut with a knife.

As they slinked out of the camp to perform whatever new depravities they had come up with somewhere in the Forest, Djaq shivered in the cold. Despite living in England for over a year, Djaq still found the English winter a harsh and terribly alien experience for her. The way the cold air bit her tanned cheeks like a blade would always affect her even more than the others. She couldn't shake the heat of the desert out of her spirit, no matter how hard she tried. It brought her a little closer to Bassam.

Shivering and deciding that she needed to be warmed up, Djaq slid out of her bunk and quietly flitted across the Camp, blanket in hand towards the object of her desires. The man who had restored her womanhood, stolen her heart and made her believe in love again.

Djaq froze as she trod on something _soft_ on the floor of the Camp. It was Allan and thankfully he was still asleep. Djaq was about to step over him when he shifted and mumbled something in his sleep. "Hide in the barn, he's coming" he mumbled as though to a lover. Djaq had to jam her fist in her mouth to stop herself from laughing. Allan as usual was dreaming of village girls and the subsequent affairs.

Carefully, as not to risk waking anyone else, Djaq slipped into Will's bunk and held him close to her. Already, she could feel his warmth seeping through her veins. They had done this before in the winter months running up to the Sheriff's attempt to kill the King but they couldn't find quiet comfort in each other's embrace in Acre as they used to. The rules and etiquette of love in the Muslim world had to be observed at all times. They had to sleep in separate rooms in Bassam's palace and visitors from her old life would constantly visit her during the day which limited their contact to the odd lingering glance or two or the odd embrace which earned filthy looks from the townspeople. Soon, the whole community knew that the Pigeon Handler's adopted niece was cavorting with an _Englishman_. The virtue of Bassam's high birth and good standing with Saladin had provided some protection from the people's ire but the pressure was too much for the fledgling couple to carry on in the Holy Land.

"Mmnph" he mumbled sleepily as he turned to face her, an adorable smile on his face which made her want to kiss him straight away. Tapping into untold levels of self control which she had never had to use before, she disobeyed her primary instinct to snog him there and then and buried herself deeper in his arms and sighing contently.

After a few moments, she felt him shift slightly and felt him kiss the top of her head. It was such a little gesture but it filled her heart with joy. Will had grown more confident around Djaq after they had declared their feelings for each other a couple of months ago. He still quietly loved and respected her as he had always done but he no longer seemed terrified of her whenever she so much as cast a glance at him. Grinning in the darkness she leaned close to him and kissed him with as much tenderness and passion as she could muster, her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands at her waist, the small of her back and tangled in her hair.

They had done this before but tonight felt different. For the first time since returning to England and indeed since arriving in the Holy land, they could have themselves to themselves and rediscover each other.

"Djaq" breathed Will breathlessly as they paused for a breather.

"Hmmm" she said to show that she was listening.

"Marry me" he whispered "Not like we tried in Acre but properly. Here in the Forest. You and me" Her mouth worked soundlessly, trying to form words. She could only say one answer to this man, this _wonderful_ man who had lit a bright candle in the vast night of her war-torn soul.

She had just enough time to say a giddy and heartfelt "yes!" before launching herself at him again.

**Well folks there you have it, my contribution to the Christmas Postathon. I hope that was shippy enough for you and that I got it right. Constructively criticise if there were flaws.**

**If you leave a review then Allan might "hide in the barn" with you as an early Christmas gift if you ask nicely. Click away me hearties!**

**Merry Christmas!**

**The Santa-Hat-Wearing-Spirit (Seriously! The whole Will/Djaq bit had me in a Santa hat!**


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